Getting down to it now. I know I keep saying that, but we’re at staging minus five. Not a big number. It’s gloomy out on the deck, and DC’s early autumn has crushed all hope of toasting up in preparation for the Mexican sun. Querétaro isn’t particularly hot, but I was into the spirit of the thing. The ever-running rivers of sweat are gone, along with the DC summer’s egalitarian and intimate damp. But I can drink hot coffee outside now, so there’s a plus.
There are a few decisions this week, two of which are worth writing. First, this blog. The Peace Corps has no problem with volunteers publishing on assignment, but the extraneous material I’ve got here might be a bit much, and I’ll have to decide how and if to quarantine it after I’ve talked with my country director. So we’ll see about that. Second, I’ve got to sort my life into take and not-take, and of the not-take, into queath and not-queath. Everything I’m leaving that isn’t personal documentation can be queathed on someone—it’s a matter of finding the right friend to queath on. If you’ve ever seen something of mine you’d like to borrow for two years or forever if I forget, drop me a line and it’s yours to keep maybe.
I’m breaking the off-topic into its own post today, so uh…nothing after the break.